


Unexpected Company

by calenhads



Category: The Wayhaven Chronicles (Interactive Fiction)
Genre: F/M, Self-Indulgent, bc i mean...that's adam right, i've only played a few pages of the book II demo so, kinda AU...but then again it's not..., might be book II compliant but....i'm not really sure, nothing too serious it's more of the start of a slow burn, the kind of slow burn romances
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-28
Updated: 2019-06-28
Packaged: 2020-05-28 09:05:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,944
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19390915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/calenhads/pseuds/calenhads
Summary: Months after the incident with Murphy the detective goes for a drink and finds herself in unexpected company.





	Unexpected Company

**Author's Note:**

> This has been sitting in my drafts (both written and typed) for months and I finally decided to bite the bullet. Trying to get back into the swing of this writing thing, so, it's probably not the best! Enjoy...or not! Whatever tickles your fancy! :)

This wasn’t the only bar in Wayhaven, but to call it the most crowded bar that the sleepy little town had to offer would have been an understatement. Nina shifted as yet another patron brushed past her, thumb rubbing up and down the cracked screen of her cell phone, sticky with bar food and six-hour old doughnut glaze. Her eyes widened in mock surprise at the screen; the throngs of wedding announcements, vacation photos, and articles of spring finally rearing its head from beneath the particularly long winter assaulted her senses almost as much as blaring music that so many around her were enjoying.

She paused momentarily, her scrolling coming to end as she spied a photo of an elderly couple and she blindly reached for the vodka cranberry on the counter, swiftly picking it up just as a young couple squeezed themselves against the bar next to her.

“Unbelievable.” She huffed; her voice half muffled by the straw between her lips. The younger man next to her shot her an annoyed glance as she turned away from them, shifting her knees to the other side of the stool.

Her in laws – excuse me – _ex_ in laws as, they had so politely asked her to refer them as, must have been on vacation. The photo was quite comical, she had to admit; their wrinkled faces were sun beaten and read as a pepper, foreheads beaded with sweat, and cocktails adorned with the cheesy umbrellas held in their grasp as they squinted up towards the sun. She’s sure they included some over used slogan in the caption, but she didn’t care enough to scroll any further.

If William were here, he would have had a field day with it.

She placed the phone face down on the bar, setting the empty glass atop it and swirling the straw among the bundle of un-melted ice that piled along the bottom; the clinking of the frozen liquid seemed to drown out the sounds of laughter and music that flowed around her.

It was odd, she noted, not seeing the gleam of the golden band any longer. If she wasn’t so stubborn, she’d even go as far as to say she felt naked without it; completely exposed, vulnerable. It had been nearly three years since he passed, and in those three years she had never taken it off. Not to shower, not to cook, not to sleep. That ring was the only thing she had tethering her to her past. To him, and to everything that had happened before this new position and a group of vampires had fallen into her lap.

_I’m supposed to be living, enjoying my life. That’s what I promised him I would do._

That’s why she had come out tonight, completely alone. Work at the station had died down since Wayhaven’s would be serial killer suddenly “disappeared” without a trace, still at large, but in retirement; or at least that was the story that was spun and fed to the public to curb the fear. Nina closed her eyes and rubbed at the side of her neck, fingers catching the raised scars that were seated into the skin.

Others may forget about what happened in their sleepy little town with time, but she wouldn’t. She had the scars, the horrible dreams that still plagued her most nights, and she had the knowledge. The knowledge that things that shouldn’t exist in this world did. It had been months since she’d seen any of them and the only person around the department that seemed to note their absence was Tina; her questions about them were never ending, yet, stayed completely unchanged each time she had asked them.

In truth, they were the same questions she had herself. Rebecca – her mother- had been less than forth coming with information about their whereabouts, only disclosing to her that they were still in Wayhaven, with the agency in some capacity; the less she knew, the safer she was.

“Here,” Nina shook her head gently, coming out of her thoughts as she noticed another cranberry vodka sitting next to her phone. The bartender stood in front of her, hands gripping the sides of the bar as if he would flip it any moment. Had she really been _that_ out of it? That pathetic looking that he decided she needed another pick me up?

“I didn’t order another drink.” It was more a question than a statement on her end and her head cocked to the side gently, eyes squinting.

“From the guy,” he sounds bored, exasperated, pointing towards the back of the room. “Over there.”

Nina wrinkled her nose gently. The last thing she had expected when she came out was to be picked up, and frankly, she wasn’t in the mood. Coming out tonight was meant to be a way to unwind, even with things at the department having slowed down significantly she was still swamped with paperwork that kept her confined to her desk until the evening rolled in. Perhaps taking off the wedding ring had been a bad idea.

“What guy?” Shifting in her seat she turned, eyes scanning the throngs of chatting, laughing patrons. A sudden wave of relief washed over her as she spotted him tucked away in a nearly secluded corner of the bar, an empty spot beside him. Adam catches her eyes almost immediately the ghost of a smile on his lips as he raises his own glass in a silent invitation.

“Want to refuse it? I can kick him out if you think he’s going to bother you.”

Nina barely hears him as she gathers up the newly made vodka cranberry, slipping from the stool, feet sticking to the floor covered in drink and grub.

“No. It’s fine.” She clears her throat, wiping the smile from her face, preparing herself to maneuver though the sea of people that seemed to be even larger now that she was standing among them.

She caught glimpses of him as she slid past conversing bodies, allowing an ‘excuse me’ or ‘can you move?’ fall from her lips as she weaved in and out of them, drink held closely to her chest as not to spill it. He hadn’t changed one bit; his hair was still cut close to his head, muscular frame hulking and incredibly too big for the seat he was occupying, a scowl still hanging off the corners of his lips.

Being relieved to see the brooding vampire was something she never thought possible, yet here she was, drawn to him like moth to a flame. When she finally reached him, he was staring at his glass of wine, swirling it gently. He seemed bored to tears.

“This seat taken?”

A sigh left Adam’s lips and he shrugged gently, finally looking up from his glass, green eyes gleaming with a sort of mischief.

“I was hoping to meet someone here but –“he clicked his tongue, forcing a hint of disappointment to pepper the words.

Nina laughs gently as she pulls the chair out from the table, Adam’s own smile finally breaking across his face. She mentally thanked him for grabbing a table near the back of the bar, though, she shouldn’t have expected him to choose any differently.

“Tina said you’ve been coming here more often.” There’s a hint of disbelief in his voice and he stares at her from atop the wine glass, sipping it carefully, eyebrows raising. “Thought I needed to see it to believe it.”

The small smile that tugs at the corner of Adam’s lips isn’t lost on Nina as he sets the glass down, leaning back in his seat. She can’t help but watch the muscles beneath the black Henley ripple and stretch the fabric pulled tight over them.

She pulls the chair closer to the table, knees practically brushing.

“She tell you what my favorite drink was too?”

“That was a lucky guess.” He’s being coy, she knew. He was in here long before she had walked in, that she’s sure of. Someone like Adam, resembling something straight of a runway, turned heads in this town. Even now women and men alike were glancing at them, muttered whispers and sweet giggles no doubt tumbling from half drunk lips. There was no way he walked in after without something noticing him, besides, with abilities like his, she’s sure he could smell the drink before it was even placed in front of her.

“So,” Nina leans back in here chair now, crossing her arms and putting him on the spot. “The Agency really let you out of sights? _Alone_?”

Adam shifts uncomfortably and she bites her lip, awaiting his answer. It wasn’t like Unit Bravo’s golden boy to break protocol, no matter what the situation was.

“Well, not exactly, no.” The way his eyes dart around the room told Nina they could be being watched, and she wouldn’t be surprised. Since learning that vampires, elves, and other manner of creatures existed she had wondered just how many of them were living in Wayhaven at any given moment.

“She’s got you four on a tight leash, huh?” Nina doesn’t mean for her voice to grow as cold as it does. If Adam caught it, he didn’t show it, shrugging gently and folding his hands in front of him on the table, the half full glass of wine forgotten.

“Your moth – Agent Burman,” he corrects himself, “Has relaxed quite a bit, yes. But ever the hound she is. Always has been.” He says the last bit with a hint of amusement, a far off look in his eyes and it has Nina curious for a moment or two.

“Don’t let her hear you say that.” She raises an eyebrow as she takes a sip of her drink and she nearly groans at the taste; more cranberry than vodka, orange juice and a hint of something she can’t quite put her finger on. _True Adam fashion_ , she mused. It begs the question whether he spied her look of distain when she tasted the first one.

“I won’t tell if you won’t, Detective.” The title was smooth as it rolled off is tongue, sending a shiver of something she thought long forgotten up her spine. Nina swallowed hard and placed the drink back on the table. “But, that’s not why I’m here.”

Adam was choosing his words carefully, too carefully for her liking and she could feel her gut twist, hands wringing gently, eyes inquisitive and slightly fearful all at once. The air around them had changed; it felt heavier and she waited for whatever bad news he was slated to bring her. Of course, The Agency would send Unit Bravo’s “charismatic” leader to deliver news of Murphy rearing his ugly head again, or perhaps there was something more dangerous lurking the streets of Wayhaven now.

“I don’t mean to sound ominous,” Nina shifts, shoulders tense as he casts a not so subtle gaze at her left hand, eyes sweeping over the finger where that golden band of hers sat not too many months ago. She flexes the digits, hiding them in her lap.

It was just as surprising for him as it was for her, she supposes; he had inquired about her ring many times when they first met. The picture she hid in her desk, the few that were face down in her apartment, and the box of men’s belongs that sat covered with dust and untouched in her bedroom. It wasn’t like her to open up about William, lest of all to someone who she thought was determined not to get along with her.

“I wanted to see y – “he stops himself short and continues all the same. “To _check_ on you. Your mother is a hard one to get anything of.”

Nina’s shoulders slumped, and sigh of relief threatening to tumble from her lips, but she resists.

“But you look well.” He says rather quickly, an afterthought and she swears she can see him muttering something to himself.

“Yeah,” she nods gently, “A whole hell of a lot better now that I’ve got my _own_ blood coursing though my veins.” It’s her own attempt at humor, to lighten the increasingly awkward situation they found themselves in. Though, neither of them laughs.

“You’d tell us if you’ve noticed things. Wouldn’t you?” Adam says lowly.

She can near the hint of concern in his voice and that funny feeling is returning; spreading from her gut, traveling though her fingers and toes. She suddenly felt too warm and wished she had of worn layers, at least then she could strip away whatever she was feeling.

As soon as she pulled the dark curls framing her heated face away, she regretted it, Adam’s eyes coming to rest on the scars on the side of her neck. She could see something in his eyes change, his hands curled into fists; he flexed a few times, willing whatever anger that had risen in him away.

“There’s been _nothing_ , Adam. It’s almost like Murphy was never here.” She lets the hair fall back into place, covering the only evidence that a blood seeking lunatic had even roamed their streets.

“Expect he was and still could be.”

Nina holds his gaze for a moment or two longer. She had never known Adam to be fearful, but the look in his eyes right now told her things had changed; _of course, things had changed_. Her whole life had been flipped on its head as soon as he waltzed into her office and tried to assert himself as the biggest person in the room, something she wasn’t keen on letting him get away with easily.

“You would all know before I would.” It was a statement, not an invitation for an argument.

“Yes, well, he’s slipped past us before.”

A heavy silence hung between the two of them for a beat or two. Talk of Murphy was still a sore subject. Even amongst her own mother her replies were short and all but avoided; if he was gone, then good riddance. Dwelling on it wouldn’t help them find him nor would it draw him back. Living in fear wouldn’t help her in the long run and looking over her shoulder constantly wasn’t something she was going to normalize.

“Kinda miss him.” Adam’s head raised from his glass quickly, Nina’s lips forming a straight line before pursing gently. “Without him around the only case I’m solving is ‘who’ knocked over Mrs. Winkler’s trash can…again”

It’s true. Since the Butcher of Wayhaven had disappeared things had been back normal; though, there had been an increase of “trash bandits” targeting one older couple. The Winkler’s had been neighbors of hers near her childhood home for as long as she could remember. If she hadn’t been acquainted with them before, she certainly was now. Mrs. Winkler was a short old woman, leathery taupe skin stretched across aching bones and had a bark that was just as bad, if not worse, than her bite. Her husband was the opposite; quite fragile and soft spoken. He never got a word in whenever she started in on Nina most nights.

Any tension that Adam had been holding his body was released and Nina watched as his shoulders slumped, back slouching against the chair, head shaking gently, in disbelief or relief, she wasn’t sure.   


“Sounds terrifying.” A joke, his voice was flat, monotone.

“Oh, it is.” Nina mused, stirring her drink with the black straw. “Raccoon last week, Opossum just the other day. Who knows? Soon enough it could be a werewolf.” She shivered at the thought, but, smiled anyway; her attempt at humor was no better than his.

“I’m afraid if its one of those mutts you’ll be solving who ate, Mrs. Winkler. Not who knocked over her trash bin.” Adam forced a smile to cross his face quickly.

Nina grinned wider at his attempt to humor her, the fuzzy warm feeling in her stomach only growing. A few short months ago the two of them couldn’t even be in the same room with one another, let alone carry on a civil conversation that didn’t end in one or both insulting each other in some way. Yet, for reasons unknown to her (or reasons she was trying to avoid) she always preferred his company over the others.

“Really, Adam, you don’t _need_ to worry about me.”

Her voice is soft, words picked carefully, and she swears it sounds like she had rehearsed that line a thousand times before tonight. Adam’s green eyes shone brighter in this light, the throngs of people that had surrounded them on all sides had begun to thin, allowing the soft glow of the lights over head to wash over his form. Something in those eyes is very clear to her, despite him being one of the great enigmas of this world. Easy to read, yet, impossible to understand. Something in those eyes says he does care, foolishly, recklessly; and there’s nothing that could stop him, or so she secretly wishes.

“Yes,” she’s never heard his voice so soft, “You have proven yourself quite capable. Many times.”

Adam glances away from her, clearing his throat and rubbing at his temples with one large hand. She isn’t sure if vampires can blush, it wasn’t on her list of top ten things she had to know, but she swears she can see a hint of pink on his cheeks.

“That didn’t sound like a compliment, but I’m going to take it as such. I know you have a hard time with them.”

He laughs and for a moment she thinks she imagined it; his wide, toothy grin stretching from ear to ear. The sound itself was deep, something she cold feel in her own chest and she soaked it up like a sponge, the sound reverberating against her skull and settling in her bones. She hadn’t loved anyone’s laugh since William. In fact, she hadn’t loved anyone at all.

And she’s terrified that’s already changed.

Nina jumped in her spot as her phone rang, buzzing and vibrating against the tabletop and Adam’s smile faltered, his wine glass suddenly interesting.

“Detective Bird,” she cleared her throat, sitting up straighter as she held the barely working device to her ear. It took all her strength to keep from rolling her eyes as Mrs. Winkler’s voice chirped on the other end; the old woman barely audible over the sounds of the television. “What can I do for you, Mrs. Winkler?”

Nina raises an eyebrow and catches Adam’s gaze momentarily. The half full glass of wine was suddenly gone, not even one lingering drop remained.

The spiel was nothing new to her, so routine that she could recite in her sleep; something or someone, as Mrs. Winkler was so convinced, had been tipping over her trash can. The giant metal thing would rouse both she and her husband from their sleep and set them into a panic, both suspecting intruders or worse.

“Werewolf.” Nina mouthed to Adam as Mrs. Winkler continued to tell her the details over the phone. The bandit had come earlier in the evening than she expected, the sound of the metal bounding down the driveway nearly caused her to break the China that had been in her family for ages. Adam shook his head, and she assumed the joke had run its course.

“Duty calls?” he commented as she said her final goodbyes to the older woman, the phone going silent.

Nina placed the device in her lap and gave him a sympathetic smile, an apology.

“Who was it that said a detective’s work is never done?” She feigned deep in thought, already knowing the answer to her own question.

“I believe that was you, Detective Bird.” He mused, a smile appeared and left just as quickly.

Nina was slow as she stood up, sheathing the phone in her jacket pocket and pushing the chair close to table with her foot. Much to her surprise the vampire stayed sitting, his finger scratching against the peeling wood again. A part of her wanted to stay, to set herself back at the table and make Adam laugh over and over again; to tell him she missed him – missed all of them, that with murphy gone her life was easier yet emptier than it had been before they came.

There was another part, the more rational part, of her that said she had overstayed her welcome; he got his answers, now, it was time to leave.

“Sure you don’t wanna tag along? For old times sake?” Her teeth gnawed at her bottom lip gently as she starred down at him. That same hint of mischief and longing burned in his eyes for a moment.

“As tempting as catching a bin bandit sounds. I’ll have to pass.” There’s something in his voice that throws Nina for a surprise; regret.

“Forgot vampires have a curfew.” She jokes and he scowls slightly, rubbing the back of his neck with the hand not chipping away at the already worn table. That was her cue, the silence. With one last drum of her fingers against the back of the chair she turned to leave, his voice brining her to a halt mid step.

“Nina,” Not detective.

It wasn’t often that Adam deviated from professional titles, even referring to his own team by their last names. She knows there’s something inherently personal about calling somebody by their true name and in the few seconds it took her to stop in turn around she had replayed it in her head several times over. It rolled off his tongue nicely, short and sweet, his accent adding a harsh note that barely carried.

She was hopeful, for what, she wasn’t sure.

“If it is a werewolf – “ Adam kept his voice low, just between them.

Nina let out a laugh then. Not a chuckle, not a giggle, but a bark of laugher that drew the attention of several groups around them, their gazes ranging from inquisitive to downright annoyed.

_You don’t need to worry about me._ She supposes for Adam it was easier said than done.

“Relax,” she grins, a hand daring to rest atop his gently. “Dogs _love_ me.”

Nina feels his hand tense beneath hers, the flesh clammy and she swears she feels his fingers twitch, rubbing against the skin of her palm gently, so gently that it’s feels as if it’s only the ghost of a touch; fleeting, gone as quickly as it had appeared. Until she feels it again, this time it’s her own fighting the urge to twine, to mold together.

“It was good to see you, Adam.” She pulls her hand away, a lingering finger of his grazing against hers for a fraction of a second. An untrained eye wouldn’t have seen the way his throat bobbed, fingers fighting an impulse that she herself knew all too well. “And thanks for the drink.”

She was halfway to the entrance of the bar when she heard his voice, even over the music and the small crowed of people that were gathered at the cluster of tables near the front of the room. Turning she caught a glimpse of the empty wine glass in his hand, the object raised towards the ceiling as if preparing for a toast.

“You owe me one.”

With one last smile and nod of her head tossed in his direction she pushed the door ajar, slipping out into the silent nearly Spring night, leaving the sounds and the smells of the bar far behind her. It was as if nothing had changed between them, except **_everything_** had. 


End file.
